foible, which some might find a tad strange. I am unashamedly addicted to tracking parcels. On a par with stamp collecting, train spotting, numismatics, fag card collecting, I could go on.... and on.... and on.
The problem is exacerbated at this festive time of year. I am fully aware I could get a consignment sent from some dodgy on-line purveyor of pills, portions, spills and spells. Trouble is in the blink of a bat’s eye I would be tracking the ruddy parcel.
In fact only today as the person I have been tracking all day arrived I said I must get out more as... I have been charting your progress around Ludlow, did you stop in Castle Street for your luncheon? To which he replied my solicitor will be getting in touch with yours as stalking is an offence...
Oh dear will anyone make me a cake with a file in it? Or even a file with a cake in it?
Call me a tart, I really don’t care... Bakewell it has to be. Tarte au Citron... nay!